


The Best of the Situation

by bold_seer



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Banter, Dating, Insecurity, M/M, POV Stephen Strange, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 12:28:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19318189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bold_seer/pseuds/bold_seer
Summary: “I have a daughter,” said Tony, before the sorbet arrived.





	The Best of the Situation

“I have a daughter,” said Tony, before the sorbet arrived. Stephen almost choked on a gulp of water. It felt not cold but icy, in his throat and his chest. Took his breath away, for all the wrong reasons. The hard liquor in the dessert - frosty, delicate snow - seemed gentle in comparison. A smooth thrust.

The date had gone well, until the revelation. Very well. A combination of exquisite food, a moderate amount of expensive wine (he wasn’t operating, after all) and relaxed, flirtatious conversation, leading them somewhere. Then an invisible force - a sentence, a word - had pulled the rug from under his feet. He tumbled. How to land?

It wasn’t bad news. Not a punch to the gut: _I have a wife, who thinks our marriage is monogamous._ His love life shifted between dormant and unsettled, but there he drew a line. Triangles involved too many people.

It wasn’t something unexpectedly sad. He was a doctor. He could invent an infinite number of unhappy possibilities. It was unexpected. More acidity than sweetness.

“Can’t believe I didn’t talk about her before,” Tony went on. Stephen’s mind was spinning in different directions. “I don’t shut up about my kid. Morgan, five, brilliant. My brains. Her mom’s good sense.” Tony’s smile was indulgent, for someone who wasn’t there to see it. Drew Stephen in, as well. Tony was hard to look away from. He focused on Stephen, body language warm and inviting. “Don’t worry. Friendly, divorced, non-nuclear family. Twenty-first century.”

For once, Stephen was at a loss. He didn’t have anyone. No family. No one from the rota of patients, colleagues and lovers was a permanent part of his life. Except Christine, in the unthankful role of ex, friend and colleague, which she bore with patience. He wasn’t appreciative enough.

He’d never wanted kids. Christine hadn’t thought about having children, at least at that point in her life. That hadn’t been the issue. Personalities and preferences aside, they were too busy. He spent almost all his time working. None of those things paved the way for a picket fence, children and a dog. And he would’ve picked the dog.

Tony was studying him, a thoughtful expression on his face. “From the Bambi in the headlights, this isn’t what you wanted to hear.”

“It’s not that I dislike -” The wrong approach. Defensiveness, half a step from denial. Stephen said, drily, “I’m the divisive ingredient. People have told me.” Anise probably. He wasn’t being hard on himself. Self-esteem was a trait Stephen Strange had in abundance. But he hadn’t remained a stranger to himself either. He wasn’t easy-going, but sharp and intense, both bright and moody. When he didn’t occupy the spotlight, he had a tendency to disappear into his own world. A know-it-all, never too patient. If he was particularly insufferable, Christine would say something. _Remember, you are only a man._

“I like you,” said Tony, frowning. He sounded oddly hurt. Disappointed for some reason, though he must’ve suspected it could change things. Stephen hadn’t met his daughter, so it wasn’t that he’d reacted adversely to her. That she’d disliked him in person. Unless this killed the mood. Unless his wariness was a mark against him. The sign of an unsympathetic person.

He knew he wasn’t nice. Competitive. Easily annoyed. But only a complete amateur carried a _watch_ with them into the OR. That loud ticking. It wasn’t music he could work to, chatter he tuned out. Pure noise.

If Christine wanted him to be nicer to her (potential) boyfriend, she was hoping for a personality transplant in one of them. Not too bitter, a little proud, he’d said, _I have a date. With a guy_. She’d looked at him in complete surprise, as if he’d told her something genuinely shocking. That he’d given away all his worldly possessions, was joining a religious order. It was enough time to think revealing anything was a mistake. Christine was understanding. Not everyone would be.

 _Used to think there was a stick up your ass, Strange. You need someone to stick something in there. Loosen you up._ He’d started it with a comment about Christine and West sleeping together. That didn’t mean he had to take anything. _Which scenario is it that bothers you? That it’s never going to be you, in some trite fantasy of one-upmanship._ _Or that whatever I do, I’m still the better doctor, Doctor West._

He’d glanced at Christine. Understanding, yes. Opening up to someone this late? Her surprise had faded. Turned into sympathy that was almost painful to receive.

Tony flashed a brilliant smile. “What’s not to like? You followed the conversation, neuroscience to holographic engineering to Black Sabbath. You’re gorgeous in a suit.” Said the man who was movie star handsome. With a mix of appreciation and envy, he imagined Tony looking as attractive in a T-shirt and old jeans, while Stephen played these dress-up games. Was there a point in dressing to impress? Reading his mind, Tony added, “Better without it.”

He wanted Tony. Any way he would have him. What would Tony like in bed? Stephen had a clever mouth and talented hands, but so did Tony. What did _he_ want? Oh. His heart rate sped up. West was probably onto something, which was _galling_. He wondered whether Tony could tell, what letting go might mean for Stephen. If he should feel embarrassed that he was so easy to read. In a remarkably level voice, he asked, “How’s your Saturday?”

“Night? Do I have a fever, Doctor?” Tony grinned, satisfied with the direction. “Maybe shed some clothes.”

Two could play a game. “You don’t need a specialist for that.”

“Nope. Miraculously cured.” An apologetic look settled on Tony’s face, but that didn’t make him any less appealing. The opposite. “Would love to. But rain check. Promised Peter -”

“Peter,” Stephen repeated, his tone neutral. That was the ground again. A friend?

“Uh, right,” said Tony. “Intern, occasional babysitter. Smartest kid in his school, all about science. Thinks Star Wars is, quote, really old. For the record, wasn’t even A New Hope.” He raised his glass in a toast. “Which makes me ancient.”

“ _Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale_ ,” Stephen said smoothly.

Tony looked him over. “Classics? Clever. You’re the type. I need to be the male lead, though? Comes with the name. Great speeches.”

Stephen’s gaze fell to the tableware. White tablecloth. “Time has a habit of making everything distinguished. Cars. Watches.” He caught Tony’s eye. “Men.”

“Good. Whatever they say about my ego - it’s bigger. Speaking of chemistry.” That was Tony, leading them down a new path. “Physics is cooler, but that’s his vice. Peter. Experiments in the lab. I try to give these hints about girls, boys, gambling. Kids these days?” Tony sighed, feigning disappointment. His deep brown eyes were keen as ever. “Bet you two would get along. Bet you’re more fun than Happy. More responsible than me. Not the Pepper and Rhodey school of serious business.”

There it was, loneliness. Well-covered up, under clothing and confidence. Work, wasn’t it enough? Every doctor lived for it. Tony’s existence was full of _life_. Besides an obvious two, three things, on the table already, what could Stephen offer him? He hummed. “No shortage of members for Team Stark.”

“It wouldn’t be an ambush,” Tony assured him earnestly. “They don’t do that. Rhodey and Pep would be pleased - if, you know. There’s something here. Roll their eyes, if not. At me. Not you. Peter would be too distracted by a shiny, new person. And Morgan. Not that I bring people home.” He cleared his throat, suddenly uncertain. “A thought. If you’re interested.”

He was. That was the problem.

“Because mixed signals. Instead of Goldilocks and the bed - porridge, chair - being just right, you’re giving me hot, cold, lukewarm.”

He felt the flush on his pale skin. Which _was_ obvious. And yet, they hadn’t touched the issue. “Isn’t it too early to even think of -” Anything, really. He looked at his hands. Faint marks. “Strange men.”

“First of all, you’re one guy. It’s not an orgy. And sure, in due time. Second of all, you don’t have to parent anyone. It’s an adjustment. If it’s a deal-breaker, it is. Lots of things are. Smoking, politics, sex. Don’t know until you try, unless you don’t want to. That’s fair.” Tony was unusually contemplative. “We can do casual. But I have a girl. She’s the most important person in the world for me. Nothing’s going to change that.”

Stephen said, softly, “I know.” Was it a rejection?

“I want you, in every way.” Tony’s meaning was plain, out in the open. “I’m going to be seriously disappointed if you don’t return my calls. Texts. Whatever. You’re smart and - I was going to say beautiful. Is that too weird? A winning combination, anyway. I can handle the rejection.” Something shifted in his demeanour, as if he expected Stephen to say no. “You get to walk away, if you want. Or, uh, don’t want to. Anytime.”

The waiter had tactfully placed Tony’s double espresso on the table, mid-conversation. Stephen murmured, “Are you going to sleep after that?”

Tony gave him a look, somewhere between _sweet of you to worry_ and _maybe I wasn’t planning to._ He drank it.

The issue. Stephen didn’t want children of his own, and he didn’t think that would change. He likely wouldn’t have gone out with Tony, if he’d known. However charming the man was. Children _were_ a complication. More challenging than an intellectual problem. There were so many ways to get it wrong, some of which he knew. A cold distance that made you grow up into someone who never let himself rely on other people, only on sarcasm. Tony knew that, as well. Confidence and frailty. There wasn’t _a_ right way. Showing support and respect, but he would have to keep a distance, because he wasn’t a parent. Kindness, was he ever kind? Making mistakes, which he hated.

Perhaps Tony wasn’t wearing tinted lenses, which showed the real world, if in a different light. But looking into a View-Master, at a pre-selected sliver. A virtual reality that transformed everything mundane into magic. Tony was confident his daughter would be fine with him dating. He couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t resent Stephen for stealing some of Tony’s time and attention, of which she’d always be entitled to the lion’s share. For a long time to come.

Yet Tony’s daughter wasn’t an idea, but a person. “What’s her favourite book? Or movie. Not Bambi, I presume.”

“Lilo and Stitch, the one with the alien dog. Brave, Frozen, Moana. Odd one out: The Sword in the Stone.” Tony had switched over to cheerfully animated. “Blue is a good colour on you. Red is my pick. You’re not allergic to pink, purple, princess? Morgan’s thing, at the moment.”

“I had a sister,” Stephen said without thinking. Then his head was under water. No air.

Sensing his sudden distress, Tony showed only gentle sympathy. It was painfully undeserved. “You don’t have to explain. Don’t have to - anything. Okay?”

Stephen shook his head. Pictured a five-year-old girl instead. As difficult as it was to imagine, perhaps she would accept him unconditionally. Get used to having him in her life, and feel the disappointment, if he and Tony broke up. When? Stephen wasn’t cynical – well, he was. About love and relationships. The truth was, most relationships ended before the _do us part_. Tony had been married. No bitterness remained, but it hadn’t worked out either.

In which case Stephen would feel guilty. A third party had been hurt. Maybe she’d even be angry at Tony. Feelings weren’t always rational. Especially for children, who viewed the world from a new perspective every day. Stephen would’ve played a big part in the imaginary break-up of a hypothetical relationship, but if Stephen wasn’t around, she couldn’t blame him directly.

He was more conscious of his flaws than anyone suspected.

Stephen didn’t particularly care for children. He did. In an abstract way. He’d do everything to save their lives, his professional responsibility. He hadn’t planned on being a role model. But children were a group. He didn’t care for every person who was old enough to vote, or marry. For most people.

He was caught off guard by Tony. To let that potential go because he was afraid of - things going wrong. Things going right. It seemed a waste.

She was Tony’s daughter. With his traits.

Stephen moved the dessert spoon. Empty glass, full of promise. Taste of citrus. He was good with words. He was appalling at this. There was no use in playing hard to get. “I would.” He paused, offering Tony a graceful retreat. “If you want me to.”

Tony’s gaze was hot on him. “Oh, I do. Not a tease.” It was replaced by a playfulness. “Unless that’s something you’re into, delayed gratification. I could see that, both ways. But, small clarification. And I’m not saying you have to make up your mind now, before testing the waters. Or at any specific point.” He leaned in, voice low and intimate. “I want to fuck you, slowly. I want to blow you. The other way around, if you prefer.” Leaned back, eyes never leaving Stephen. “Fingers crossed, you’re not only interested in the fun times.”

“No, I’m -” The words were thick in his throat. A sudden image of Tony bending him backwards, mouth on Stephen’s neck. The pulse point. He blinked. “Interested in everything.”

“Great.” Tony pushed the tableware to the side, with a delighted, confident smile. “If you’re wondering, I’m free after dinner.”

**Author's Note:**

> Quote: _Antony and Cleopatra_


End file.
